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Kavinsky leaned towards Adam, who was still too engulfed in the post-waking up haze to protest. The sky was dark over their heads; the church had witnessed Kavinsky's arrival, as forgiving as such buildings are. The young man did not push his motion to the end. He was fairly close when his lips parted for a coughing fit, sending blood all over Adam's features.
His shirt had been soaked with it by the time he showed up at Adam's door. He's too used to toying with danger to notice that driving in his state had been as good as a suicide attempt. But here goes : he genuinely had not know what else to do.
Whatever his heart does at the sight of his barely awake and horrified boyfriend vanishes through the bullet wounds. There's some light. The door closes behind him. He's relieved, though not safe yet.
"What happened ?"
"Business, baby."
He doesn't see much and wonders if it's a side effect of dying, which is already a side effect of everything. Adam huffs, not amused. He clumsily followed Adam's guidance to the bathroom. The sound of running water was almost immediate, shaking the whole building.
"What the hell," Adam said.
There were suddenly a lot more light and things to see. Kavinsky noticed his shades in Adam's hand. Not a side-effect of dying, then.
"Were you stabbed ?"
Kavinsky contorted himself to get rid of the bloody top. There was still blood smeared over his upper body, hiding the wounds. He laughed. That hurt.
"You think any fucker can get close enough ?"
"Shot, then. How many times and where ?"
Adam was getting annoyed by the tap, too. The water remained desperately cold. Kavinsky pointed at his arm and searched the second spot around his stomach for counting purposes. He'd have to do it again to name the places— Adam somehow stopped him before he could do that.
"This is shit," he angrily declared to the empty hot water cylinder.
Kavinsky noticed how he was hesitating. Guessing why required too much of an effort— first off, he's high and second, the blood loss is making him lightheaded. Adam complained about not seeing anything. Kavinsky started holding on the sink to stay on his legs.
"Don't use the wounded arm."
Adam cleared a shelf in the small cupboard. Most of its content fell, clicking and clattering. Kavinsky swallowed the pills Adam gave him. There was something damp and cold on his arm. Adam quickly cleaned it and used his own shirt to restrain the blood flow on that area before moving to the most worrisome part.
He's not a believer but there is a god for the drunks and apparently, one for Kavinsky.
"Give me your keys."
"You opened the door," Kavinsky reminded him, confused.
"The car keys, dumbass," Adam huffed.
He reached in his pocket and let the cold tap water ran on them for a short moment before handing them over.
"Why ?"
"I don't know how to deal with this, so let's get you to the hospital while you're still conscious."
While Kavinsky knew that Adam wouldn't have let him die, he didn't think of a scenario where he lived. Life is too boring to be a side-effect of anything. He complained about being thirsty. Adam rightfully refused to let him drink and threw a jacket over his shoulders before leading him downstairs.
"Ground rules," Adam announced. "Stay awake."
"Am I ever ?"
"You better be," Adam huffed.
Kavinsky winced. "Your shirt is fucked."
"What ?"
He didn't explain that there was blood on the driver's seat but Adam understood on his own. After all, he's going to college and all. That still didn't make him smooth enough in dealing with the car mechanics for Kavinsky to fall asleep. He barely let someone else drive the Mitsubishi because it was annoying. Everything in him wanted to take the wheel and push the car to the limits he had dreamt for it. A figurative light clicked inches above his head.
"You could have called them."
"Shit." Pause. "I could have."
Adam's voice quivered in a way that announced both laughter and cries. Another light clicked. A few more and he may start selling these instead of dream drugs.
"Are you panicking ?"
"Of course I am."
The cabin was saturated with various scents, each making blood's stronger. His arm felt numb, but Adam had significantly reduced the blood flow. Kavinsky forgot to keep the shirt pressed between his hip and ribs. The speed was messily changed, which didn't help him remember. He would have rolled his eyes if he was certain they'd remain screwed to his skull. The mental image was disturbing.
"I'm acid-tripping, LSD free."
He didn't get Adam's answer, if there was any. He couldn't tell how much time passed since he had left two humanoid birds to decay on the corpse of the unlucky shooter.
The separation was brutal, meaning that he wasn't prepared. Keeping his eyes open under the neon lights after having travelled in the soothing night was torture. He childishly decided that there was no point after Adam was gone, while he may only be a few steps behind.
They did plan on putting him to sleep, he was only getting ahead.
The thing is, it's easier than waking up. At first, he couldn't because of the drugs that were injected in his system. After a while, he stopped dreaming, and there was nothing left.
Waking up is hard and being awake is still an awful lot of pain. He didn't get to know the time until a few hours later. Adam still smelled like car oil. Kavinsky carefully tested his limbs and found that he could get his unharmed hand up. Adam wordlessly helped it against his cheek.
They didn't speak at first, saving that for a time when Kavinsky would be physically able to argue.
"You care."
It's always a bit silly and surprising to notice but they both do. If Adam had turned up badly wounded at his door, Kavinsky would have burned the whole state.
"Someone has to," Adam retorted, lacking aggressiveness. "You were out for a full week."
Kavinsky took the blow. Apologies were bubbling behind his lips, urging to be let out. He remained silent, though unable to swallow them. His hand gradually slid in Adam's hair as Adam bent to rest his forehead on Kavinsky's chest.
"I'll be out soon," he promised, "as good as new."
"What is in your head does not matter. You're still a man, Kavinsky."
"Men are terrible, darling." Pause. Adam didn't like when his name was used for biblical references. He would gladly have made one. "Wouldn't you prefer that I was something else ?"
"No," Adam stubbornly opposed. "You are a man," he repeated. "My man and that, you will remain."
He lightly tapped the back of Adam's head, casual despite the shiver caused Adam's statement.
"You're so dumb when it comes to that. Us. Me. Where'd all the wits go ?"
Adam had decided some time ago that either they made it or they didn't. Both of them knew that they should either part or get better to prevent something terrible from happening. But relationships with Kavinsky do not end with a few words and a short-lived nostalgia. There was so much worse in store for a magical young man— two, even. After all, isn't Adam is the strongest tree of the forest and Kavinsky is a self-igniting fire ?
They both knew and had agreed to either make it work or die. There was no trying, because both achieved exactly what they planned on doing.